Wicked Game
by GutterBorn
Summary: A lucky girl meets Dean at a club and gets the best damn dance of her life.


I watched as the last of the original three friends I went to the night-club with left with a tall blonde with killer, blue eyes. I waggled my fingers goodbye to her as the man whisked her away, hands glued to her ass. I sighed and turned back to my nearly gone drink, swirling the ice around in it with a straw. A decent looking man with jet black hair had hit on me a few hours earlier, but only until his drunk girlfriend-whom he failed to mention-came up and draped herself around his neck, smothering him in sloppy kisses and dragging him off to dance with her.

I took a bored look around the club; electric with energy and noise. Remixed music blared at a deafening volume and purple strobe lights flickered across the dancers on the floor. Some danced in couples, others with a group of girlfriends having a good time, but mostly there were women trying to look sexy while fighting to stay on their feet as an abundant amount of alcohol pulsed through their systems. I turned back around in my seat and perched my chin upon my hand, picking up my condensed glass. "One more drink and I'm out of here." I downed the rest of my watered-down coconut rum and coke. I knew It was a sorry excuse for an alcoholic beverage, but I liked it; there was a strange comfort in the taste of it. Before I could put back down the glass, empty except for a few, lone ice-cubes, the bartender placed another drink right in front of me. I gave him a shocked look. Could bartenders read minds now or something?

"From the guy over there in the leather jacket." The bartender practically had to yell to be heard over the music.

"Oh." I simply replied, mostly to myself. "Leather jacket? Great, guys who wear those are such lo-" My mocking, mental-comment was stopped short as I got a look at who the bartender was referring to. One of the most gorgeous men I've ever seen in my entire life was looking at me from a little ways down the bar. I swear, if I didn't know better I would have gasped. He leaned suavely against the bar, his full, sensuous lips curved up at the corners into a mysteriously alluring smile.

My flirtatiousness immediately snapped into action like it always did when the occasional hot guy took notice of me. I smiled and pulled my eyes away from him in a long blink, looking down at my feet, psyched at the moment that I had decided to wear my sexy, lace-up heels. I some how could feel the man approach as he made his way through the crowd and over to where I was sitting.

"You can tell a lot about a person from what their drink of choice is." My stomach flipped as the deep, sexy voice floated to my ears. I looked up from my shoes to take my first good look at the man in front of me. His lips were even better up close and his eyes...dear Lord, his eyes were a dazzling shade of green and their stare made me feel like I had been reduced down to wearing absolutely nothing.

"I guess I'm in big trouble then." I smiled and couldn't help but notice his whiskey on the rocks; basically putting my drink into a kiddy-catagory. The man laughed and put his hand out.

"I'm Dean."

I nodded and took his hand; it nearly enveloped mine completely. "Lauren."

Dean nodded, his eyes still cooly looking, seeming to be taking in my every detail; an unnerving yet exhilarating experience. He squeezed my hand gently and let it go, his fingers grazing against mine. Dean wore a double-banded, silver ring on his right ring-finger. Not many men I know can pull rings off, but with Dean, it only seemed to add to his sex-appeal that he exuded.

"What's a girl like you doing sitting over here all by yourself?"

I laughed a little and shrugged, crossing my legs so that my emerald-green, silk dress that I had splurged on slid a little further back from my knee.

"I was with some friends, but they've all left. Found what they were looking for I suppose."

Dean scrunched his nose a little in puzzlement. "What about you?"

I flicked my eyebrows up. "Didn't get any bites."

Dean smiled and furrowed his brow, squinting his eyes a little. "You do realize that there are about four guys checking you out right now, don't you?"

I had to laugh, half from nervousness and half from disbelief. "Really? How would you know that?"

Dean swallowed a drink of whiskey and shrugged. "I'm good at singling out competition." His eyes sparkled as he smiled at me.

I giggled and ran a hand over the side of my face. "Why the hell would a guy like this pick me out of a crowd."

"Well, between you and me..." I leaned forward, closer to him, and whispered as much as would be allowed over the music. "...I don't think they stand a chance."

Dean laughed and looked down at the floor, scratching the back of his short, brown hair.

My stomach jumped, I think maybe for a moment I made him feel as giddy as he did me. The music changed to a remix of Daddy Yankee's "Gasolina" I bit my bottom lip, trying to hold back a grin, and couldn't help but sway to the beat of the music.

Dean noticed. "You like this song?" He flashed a knee-weakening smile at me.

"A lot." I nodded.

"Wanna dance?" He asked me, placing his drink on the bar.

I admit, I was begging for him to ask me that, but it still surprised me that he actually did. "Yeah, sure." I stood up off the stool I had been sitting on for most of the night.

The close fit of the hundreds of people in the club left me no choice but to stand mere inches away from Dean. He smiled down at me-being a good six inches taller than me-causing my heart to race. It didn't help the butterflies in my stomach when he took off his jacket, the space between us narrowing ever more. His clearly muscular chest became more exposed and as he shrugged off his jacket, his scent teased and delighted my sense of smell. I was sure he wasn't wearing cologne, but if Axe made a fragrance like anything close to Dean's, they'd make a fortune overnight.

"Keep an eye on this for me, would ya?" Dean handed his jacket to the bartender. He wore a dark blue-verging on black- collared shirt and a black t-shirt underneath it. Dean turned back to me and flicked his eyebrows up, putting out his hand. I took it and let him take me onto the dance-floor.

There was something indescribably sexy about Dean leading me by the hand through a crowd of people. It was something I couldn't quite put my finger on, but gave me an invigorating rush just the same. We made it to a small clearing in the center of the dance floor. "God, if he dances half as good as he looks..."

Dean turned and took my other hand. I moved my hips in rhythm to the music, tossing my hair a little and swaying my bare shoulders. I wasn't anywhere near drunk, but I was buzzed just enough that I was comfortable dancing the way that I only danced when I was completely alone. I was thrilled to see Dean intently watching my every move with a pleased smile tickling at the corners of his mouth.

He twirled me out. Totally cheesy, but it made me giggle. Dean spun me back in and pulled me closer in a gentle yet demanding way. My hands wrapped as much as they could around his biceps, my arms resting on his as his hands softly held the small of my waist. Our hips moved in rhythm together, a few inches apart. I looked up at him, biting my bottom lip seductively. Dean pulled me still closer, slowly, until I felt his belt buckle press against my stomach. Our pelvises touched and gyrated against each other. My breath caught in my throat, my heart pounding hard inside my chest.

Dean must have noticed, because he leaned down, his cheek brushing against mine as he put his lips to my ear. "Is this ok?"

I smiled and brushed my lips up his neck and to his ear. "Yes."

Dean straightened back up and smiled, pleased at my consent. He repositioned my arms around his neck and placed his hands on my hips; I felt their tingling, gentle pressure as I moved my hips along with his. Dean firmly pushed his pelvis against mine and rotated, I matched his movements. "Gasolina" melted into the slow rhythm of Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game" after a few moments.

I leaned against Dean completely, closing the rest of the small amount of space between us. The atmosphere and club seemed to mellow along with the music, the dancers weary from the intense, previous dance routines slowed to a calmer pace. Mine and Dean's pelvises moved together slowly and smoothly to the rhythm. Dean took my right hand in his and put his other on my lower back, letting it drift delightfully low and then back up again.

After a few moments of the traditional slow dance, he slowly twirled me out and brought me in so my back was pressed up against his chest and abs. Dean brushed my wavy hair away from the left side of my neck, I could feel his breath against the nape of it, hear him exhale in my ear. He gently pressed his lips to my skin. The curve of my neck, my shoulder, under my jaw bone. I reached up, placing my hand at the back of Dean's neck. His hands glided down to the front of my hips, guiding them closer and in a circular motion with his. He slid his hands slowly down the silk on the side of my thighs, bringing the fabric up a little and letting it fall again as he slid back up and onto my stomach. I moaned softly, indulged by the pleasure of his gentle touch. His left hand splayed over my belly button as his right gently stroked the side of my face.

With each rotation of my hips, I could feel the large bulge in Dean's jeans; right up against the back of me. I bit my lip. I really wasn't one for one night stands, but Lord, if this man said the single word, I would be powerless to turn him down. Dean gently ran his hand up the silk covering my stomach, his hips still continuing their rotation with mine. I admit, I wanted nothing more than to take this man back to my apartment and see what he could do(And considering the way he danced, I assumed that the experience would be mind-blowing) Dean turned me around, pulling me from my thoughts. He looked down at me, his eyes drifting to my lips. I couldn't wait, I pulled him down by the strange amulet he wore around his neck and kissed him. Our lips begged to have more of each other as Dean nibbled at mine, feeling like they just couldn't get enough of his. Dean found my neck after a few moments, planting hard, lustful kisses on it. I kissed his neck and bit his ear.

My voice was breathy. "Say the word and we can get the hell out of here."

Dean moaned softly into my neck, sounding like he was about to say the word I was waiting to hear. I closed my eyes, the warmth of his mouth sent shivers down my spine and weakened my knees, sending sensations to all the right places.

I heard someone clear their throat, Dean stopped biting at my neck. I opened my eyes. Standing behind Dean was a tall, extremely handsome man with dark brown hair that fell in bangs across his forehead. I looked at him, a bit puzzled, and felt Dean grumble a bit, standing up straight and turning to the man. He cleared his throat.

"What is it, Sammy? I'm kinda busy." Dean sounded impatient. He kept his hands on my hips as he turned his body to look at this "Sammy."

Sammy laughed. "Yeah, I can uh...see that."

Dean rolled his eyes at the tall man. "Lauren, this is my brother, Sam. Sam, Lauren." Dean gestured between us.

I smiled nervously up at Sam. "Hi." "Lord, good looks run in the family."

Sam smiled back at me, dimples leaving indentations on both sides of his face. "Hi, nice to meet you." Sam looked hastily back at his brother. " Listen, our...friend has showed up again. We need to go...now."

Dean let out a growl-like breath, his head falling back, facing up towards the ceiling. "Fine, I'll meet you outside."

Sam nodded and glanced at me, smiling shyly.

"Bye, Sam."

Sam waved shortly. "Bye." He turned and made he way through the crowd to the neon exit sign glowing overhead.

Dean turned back to me and sighed. "Son of a bitch."

I breathed out a laugh and looked down.

"I'm sorry, I've gotta go." Dean spoke in a low voice. I smiled up at him, disappointment clearly evident in my eyes.

"Man am I sorry." He chuckled and shook his head.

I nodded, equally regretful, but decided not to make a big, showy deal of a missed ONS. Though intensely disappointed, I hardly knew Dean...hell didn't even know his last name.

"Well..." I looked up at Dean from under my lashes. "...Thanks for the dance, stud."

Dean smiled. "Maybe next time my geek brother won't show up and ruin my entire night."

I laughed and shrugged, secretly dreading the moment Dean's hands would leave my hips. Sighing again, I ran my hands from his shoulders to his lower arms. "Bye, Dean."

Dean nodded a little, running his thumb down the side of my face. "See ya, Lauren." The weight of his other hand left my hip and he walked away, leaving me to stand alone and watch him go. Dean walked up to the bar and retrieved his jacket, turning back to me. He smiled and made another face of clear disappointment, shaking his head slightly. He shrugged that old leather jacket over his shoulders; it didn't help my situation that when the did so, his lower stomach was exposed for the a brief moment. Skin-peeks were my weakness and it sent another wave of disappointment through me. I watched as Dean was lost amongst the crowd and just like that, he was gone. I knew I'd probably never see him again.

"Son of a bitch..." I mumbled as I stood alone in the middle of the dance floor. Chris Isaak echoed throughout the club.

"Nobody, loves no one."


End file.
